


The Crew of Sun's Death

by Dunkthebard



Category: Elder Scrolls III: Morrowind
Genre: Coffee, Elder Scrolls Lore, Expanded Universe, Gen, Maps, Original Character(s), Other, Pirates, Poetry, Random & Short, Sea Monsters, Travelogue, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-16
Updated: 2020-11-13
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:28:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25319815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dunkthebard/pseuds/Dunkthebard
Summary: After dropping off a mysterious prisoner at the Imperial port of Seyda Neen, the crew of the Sun’s Death make their long journey through Morrowind’s Inner Sea once more. The four crewmates, and their reluctant friend known as Jiub, fight their way through a world on the brink of collapse. The ghosts of dead soldiers haunt the sea and the cursed forces of ancient history have stirred awake. The seas of Tamriel have never been more treacherous.This is an original story detailing the lives and adventures of the crew that transported the Nerevarine to Vvardenfell, as well as the future Saint Jiub making his first steps towards redemption. This is a side project of mine that I will update semi-regularly. Every chapter begins with an excerpt from Ulsan Far-Wind's book of poetry/prose that he's writing for his son back in Hammerfell.The crew of Sun’s Death is made up of The Imperial Captain Garrus Veldin, the Imperial First Mate Oretta Harmia, the Bosmer Helmsman/archer Valekren, and the Redguard Navigator/poet Ulsan Far-Wind.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 2





	1. Arrival

The Dawn broke, but she did not see it. 

“Wake up.” He said, as if that were possible during a dream that was so horrible and real. Another voice stabbed one last knife through her soul, and said “Many fall, but one remains."

“We’re here.” His penetrating voice echoed in her mind, but she was unconvinced. It was impossible for him to even know for sure where they were going in the dark bowels of the ship. Even if they finally had arrived at their destination, she was unsure if she was happy about it. A deep part of her mind was incredibly hesitant to set foot on the Black Isle again. 

“Why are you shaking? Are you okay? Wake up!” Now there was a damn and impossible proverb. 

The Nerevarine, ignorant of her true identity as the reincarnation of Indoril Nerevar, awoke from her horrible and prophetic dream. The two prisoners were deep within the _Sun’s Death_ , a small Imperial Navy ship enroute to the isle of Vvardenfell. 

"Stand up... there you go. You were dreaming. What's your name?" Jiub helped her up from her bedding in the cramped compartment. 

“Arlen.” She had bright red hair and the ash colored skin of the Dunmer. She looked just like most of the native residents of the isle, but she was still an outsider who had lived her entire life far away in the Imperial City. 

"Well, not even last night's storm could wake you. I heard them say we've reached Morrowind, I'm sure they'll let us go." Jiub mused as he looked around the cabin. He wore a terrible scar that ran down his face and through his left eye. 

“Quiet, here comes the guard.”

The Imperial ship captain, Garrus Veldin, opened the door. “Get yourself on deck and let’s keep this as civil as possible.” Garrus remembered the violent attacks their prisoner had during their dreams and visions, and kept his hand not far from his Imperial Legion shield on his back. He was unsure why the Emperor himself had ordered the prisoner to be freed and sent to Morrowind, but he wasn’t paid enough to wonder. 

Arlen never saw Jiub again after she left that dark hold. She was quickly ushered off the ship and into the Census and Excise Office of Seyda Neen. The _Sun’s Death_ left the docks as quickly as they arrived. They had one more stop before they set out into the open sea. 

A few hours later, late in the afternoon with their backs to the setting sun, they arrived at the docks in Vivec City. Dusk arrived with Jiub. 

“Well Jiub, I guess this is your last stop. You’re free to go.” Garrus led him up to the deck of the ship.

The Dunmer had tears in his eyes. “I haven’t seen Vivec in so many years. It's even more beautiful than I remember.” The cantons of the city loomed large in his soul. 

“You were in the Imperial City Prison for quite a long time right?”

“Too long.”

Garrus sighed. He had transported Jiub from Morrowind to the Imperial City long ago. He was glad he could finally return him home. From what he heard, the murder charge thrown on him was sketchy to say the least, but there was nothing he could do. “That’s a rough deal. Sorry we couldn’t make the trip back home any more comfortable.”

“That cargo hold was still a palace compared to the dungeons.”

“Well… stay safe.”

The Dunmer disappeared into the twists and turns of Vivec’s Foreign Quarter. Garrus had only been inside once, but he still got a knot in his stomach when he thought about trying to find his way around the city. He preferred to stay on the water. 

The _Sun's Death_ had pirates to investigate and smugglers to catch. They did not stay in Vivec city. They set out into the Inner Sea ready to do their duty to the Empire. 


	2. Morning Coffee

“ _I once heard a tale from a pirate of Stros M'Kai. He and his comrades attacked an Imperial Galleon headed for the golden port of Anvil, only to find no wealth on board. Some fellow robbers of the sea already robbed them. ‘Give me a county and I will give you a flag and display it proudly.’ He said. ‘I will color it gold for the wealth I lost and the port that yearns for it. There will be red for the Imperial Dragon that haunts my steps, and blue for the freedom of the seas, the last one for me.’ I heard this story and decided that my last love will come from the water.”_

Ulsan Far-Wind stretched his legs awake and crawled out of his hammock below the deck of _Sun’s Death_. Valekren, the Wood Elf helmsman, had guided their vessel out from the docks of Vivec City and out into the jagged waters of Morrowind’s Inner Sea. Ulsan cursed himself for staying up far too late. He needed his rest, but he could not help it. Every night he would lie awake writing his poems and tales. He planned to collect them into a book as a gift for his young son living back home in Bergama, a Redguard city oasis nestled inside the Alik’r Desert. 

He prepared his coffee with a bit of flame produced by a spell from the destruction school of magic. Using a small fire controlled from the palm of his hand, he heated up the grey kettle. It was a trick he learned from a few drunk Bosmer hunters during a trip to Valenwood. The hunters needed to know a good bit of fire magic in order to cook their meals without harming their sacred forests. In truth, it was one of the greatest accidental gifts he had ever received. That was years ago. He had gotten so good at it by now that he could perfectly heat up the drink so it was hot enough to enjoy but not so hot it would burn your tongue. Sure he couldn’t use much magic in battle or in scrying, but he never needed sparkstone to produce an open flame. He unwrapped some dried fish for himself and grabbed some more for the helmsman. 

At the wheel Valekren steered the ship with baggy eyes and a thousand yard stare, just like he always did. He lit up a little though when Ulsan brought him his breakfast and a small cup of coffee. The ship had a surprising stock of cups and dishes they had bought from a local ashlander tribe. A few months ago the ship lost all their dishes and cutlery in a tragic accident (Valekren drunkly ran into some rocks along the bitter coast, Ulsan made up a cover story to save his hide). Their captain, Garrus Veldin, was always the diplomat and managed to actually trade with the Dunmer natives, a feat few other outlanders had ever accomplished. The ashlanders deeply mistrusted outsiders. Ulsan couldn’t really blame them. 

“You know… coffee comes from beans, doesn’t that go against the no plants thing of the Green Pact?”

“Eh, not really. The bean is from way outside Valenwood, and it’s not like I’m eating a whole salad or anything.”

“That makes sense I guess.”

“How’s the wind?”

Valekren responded in his usual tired and sarcastic fashion. “Windy. How’s the book coming?”

Ulsan replied in kind. “Wordy.”


	3. Veloth’s cloak shows the way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ulsan Far-Wind and Valekren break into an old Dunmer ancestral tomb to find clues to guide their next journey. The tomb dislikes their intrusion.

“ _A strange thing happened to me during an attack against Esroniet. In the rearguard of their ships was a huge warrior wearing a black hauberk and gambeson. I was afraid of him. When our boats collided I thrust my spear’s full force into his chest. The force of the blow was so that I was thrown back from the deck and into the cold water. When I emerged I saw that he had fallen, the spear inside him, and assumed I had killed the man.”_

_“Some days later, after the battle had long been won, the warrior sailor, with no wounds on him, walked into our camp on the shore. He found me and returned the broken end of my spear, a weapon from my grandfather, with the metal head still beautiful and intact. The warrior said that the Gods must have spared him for a reason. I was unsure. That day however, I learned that Fate indeed is an impenetrable fortress.”_

The two Imperial navy sailors stood in an old ancestral tomb, their backs to a long hallway of ash mounds and long forgotten souls. Some old noble family who had long since lost their way. 

Ulsan Far-Wind yelped excitedly with a warmth as sweet as autumn's sunrise. “It’s a map!” 

Valekren swiftly covered his loud comrade's mouth. “You want all of Vvardenfell to hear you!” He harshly whispered gravel into Ulsan’s ear. 

They crouched low behind a sarcophagus of pale brown stone. Ulsan could not steal his gaze from the mosaic that dominated the dark chamber. 

“Sanguine’s horns, it’s a bloody map!” Ulsan whispered through a wide smile. 

Valekren was less amused. “How can you even tell?” 

Ulsan made soft and extremely exact hand motions in the air. He was performing a kind of dance he learned from the sands of the Alik'r. “You see those black spots? And those lines, bolder than the rest of the picture? The lines of Veloth’s cloak show the way.” Ulsan quickly produced a leather-bound book from his pack and began drawing, as furious and quick as a sabre cat.

Valekren rolled his grass green eyes. “I think you’re just imagining things again.”

Ulsan ignored the Wood-Elf’s jabs. A coherent map was forming on the page. As the child of Alik'r drew, the ancient residents of the ancestral tomb began to rumble from their sleep.

The Bosmer ripped his bow off his shoulder and knocked and arrow in one smooth motion. “We need to leave, map-boy.”

“Just give me one more moment, I’m almost finished!” Ulsan seemed unaware of the danger. His quill was nearly on fire as he wrote. 

“Fine, but you owe me, jackass.” The Wood Elf leaped out from cover and fired three arrows down the hall, all finding their marks in shambling skeletons. They fell to the ground, resuming their lives as piles of bones. Still, a dark, unnatural growl came from around the corner. It filled Valekren with dread, and rose the fine hair in his sharp ears.

A bonewalker, gross flesh still clinging to its body, appeared down the crypt-darkened hall. Horrific magic burned through its veins and rage flowed in its dead eyes. 

“Sheogorath’s beard, you’re an _ugly_ one.” Valekren cursed and exhaled, firing another shot. The arrow flew and lodged firmly into the monster, but it left no visible damage. The creature did not slow its advance. 

Ulsan popped up. “Okay, all done!”

Then he saw the bonewalker. “Oh fuck!”

Valekren violently pulled the Redguard out of the room by the collar of his Imperial chestplate. He practically carried Ulsan all the way out of the tomb. 

A few moments later they were panting and heaving outside the tomb door, nestled within the swamps of Vvardenfell’s Bitter Coast region. Ulsan nearly tripped into knee high bog water as he jumped out of the crypt. 

“You owe me.” Valekren lightly punched Ulsan’s arm. 

“You’ll owe _me_ when the captain gets this map, old friend.” 

They managed to scare off a mudcrab who had conquered their rowboat during their long absence. With the crab safely away, they pushed off and weaved their way back out to the Inner Sea. The _Sun’s Death_ came into view when the moons were at their height. Both Bosmer and Redguard felt relief at seeing their home away from home. Valekren shivered fiercely as a tight grip of frost took hold of him. It burned him, harsher than ever before. 

Ulsan leaned over in the boat and tried to warm his friend. The Bosmer violently tried to get away. 

"What's wrong?" Ulsan feverishly asked.

"We stayed in that damn tomb for too long." 

A sudden way of guilt came over Ulsan. "What should I do?" 

"Just... just... fuck. _Fuck!_ I'm gonna get out of the boat, I'll be back in the morning."

"Vale wait no!" It was too late. The Wood-Elf leapt into the black water and disappeared into the long night. 


	4. Soft Sunrise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After long hours of searching, Ulsan Far-Wind finally finds his friend, the Wood-Elf Valekren, leaning against a tree along the Bitter Coast. They reaffirm their friendship.

_“My son, your grandmother is not to be trifled with. Once when I was your age a band of marauders and bandits came to besiege our small castle. The castle whose halls you walk today. I was afraid, my mother was not. She picked up a sword and told me that if I don’t defend my home, I can’t defend anything. She called me a coward and she was right.”_

_“So I did not give up in my fight. I raised my shield and forced the invaders out. And I did not relent that night. When something is worth fighting for, you do not rest.”_

Ulsan did not return to the _Sun’s Death_. Not yet. The Redguard was not ready to give in. He rowed around the treacherous Inner Sea, looking for Valekren, the wood-elf who dove into the water. The bright moons guided his oar as he peered into the dark depths. 

The sun was starting to awaken from its slumber when finally Ulsan found his friend. The Bosmer leaned against a swampy tree and bog, covered in blood. Ulsan quickly beached his boat and ran to him. 

“Vale you son of bitch.” Ulsan slapped him awake. 

He immediately snapped into the daylight and breathed deeply. “My mother is an amazing woman, Redguard.” 

Ulsan tried to soak up the blood with his tunic. He ripped it out from under his Imperial Navy armor. It was little use.

Valekren smiled. “Don’t worry, friend. This blood isn’t mine.”

“What?!” Ulsan slapped him again.

“I’m a werewolf!!!! Isn’t it obvious yet?! You caught me okay.” Valekren looked down to the dirt, ashamed. 

“ _Oh_ …” Ulsan fell back into a grey rock, relieved. 

“Feel free to tell Garrus. I know it will get me discharged, but I’m tired of hiding it.”

Ulsan didn’t know what to say.

“The blood is of a Kagouti by the way. I needed to hunt.” 

Slowly Ulsan returned to sit by Valekren’s side. “I was worried you were dead.”

“Well I’m not, but I might as well be. Why didn’t you go and stay on the ship?”

Ulsan repeated himself. “ _I was worried you were dead._ ” The Redguard got up and reached down a kind hand to help. “Come on, we’ll tell Garrus we were delayed by the skeletons in the tomb.”

“You’re not angry?”

“You’re not gonna kill me or anyone else in the crew right?”

“No. I promise.”

“Then I think we’re good to be honest.”


End file.
